we haven't hit the ground, but we're still falling
by halestorm999
Summary: 'Twas the night before Christmas, and Percy was sick. / Just a bit of fluffy Christmas Percico, because I couldn't help myself. Written as a Christmas present for my precious moose, Taffeh A. Llama!


**AN: Merry Christmas! This is written as a Christmas present for Taffeh A. Llama; I really hope you love it, Jahfy! I've been working on this all day, and it's been killing me to not tell you about it. xoxo**

**I actually swore I would never writer Percico, and then I started shipping it... *sigh* Oh, well! Cue fluffy Christmas one shot and all that.**

**Warnings: Language and slash.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

_**Merry Christmas!**_

**~THF**

* * *

"I _told _you to get your flu shots," Nico muttered. He was curled up in the arm chair in Percy's living room, knees drawn up tight to his chest, eyes reflecting the glare of the TV. He wore a knitted sweater that had sleeves that were so long, they swallowed up Nico's arms and left just his fingertips peeking out of the bottom of the fabric, and the front of the sweater was decorated in prancing reindeers. Was the plural of reindeer "reindeers" or "reindeer"? Percy would have to ask Annabeth. Either way, Percy thought Nico looked adorable in the sweater.

And by adorable, Percy meant completely fuckable.

Percy groaned, rolling over on the couch in hopes to disperse the pain in his stomach. No such luck. 'Twas the night before Christmas, and Percy was sick. _Figures_, he thought.

"I'm starving, Nico," he complained, shooting puppy dog eyes at the younger demigod.

Nico didn't look away from the TV. "Sally said you have soup in your refrigerator."

"Go get me some."

Nico rolled his eyes. "Go get it yourself."

"I'm sick!" Percy protested.

"Yeah," Nico agreed. "You're sick, not dead. You can walk ten feet into the kitchen, get a bowl of soup, and come back."

"_Nico_," Percy whined. Nico spiked the volume on the TV higher. Percy sighed, flopping over onto his side and glaring at the younger demigod. "Why the hell are you here if you're not being useful?"

"Because _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ is on," Nico deadpanned. "Why else would I be here?"

Percy studied him for a moment. "You know you're really here because you love me."

Nico stiffened in the arm chair, turning his head slowly to look at Percy. "What?" he demanded, his voice an octave higher than normal.

Percy nodded, satisfied by the reaction he'd received as a result of his comment. "I'm pretty much your older brother. You're here because you love me and want to take care of me and keep me from getting any sicker so that I can wake up tomorrow not feeling like I'm swimming through the Phlegethon."

Nico snorted, relaxing back into his seat. "You have the flu. There's no way in Hades you're getting better by tomorrow morning."

"You could always go pick me up some ambrosia or nectar," Percy pointed out. "That would make me better."

Nico wrinkled his nose. "I think you deserve to suffer. Because a: you were stupid enough not to keep extra ambrosia and nectar around the house in case of injury or, say, the flu, and b: seriously, why the actual fuck didn't you get your flu shots?"

Percy groaned dramatically. "_Nico_, my tummy hurts!"

Nico rolled his eyes, but Percy could tell that the fifteen year old was trying not to smile.

"Why didn't _you _bring ambrosia and nectar?" Percy asked. "Don't you always keep a stash in your backpack?"

Nico glanced towards the black backpack at the foot of the arm chair, over which he'd draped his aviator jacket. "I don't remember saying I didn't bring ambrosia and nectar."

Percy bolted into a sitting position, then flopped back down with a groan as his stomach turned. "Gods damn it, Nico, if you've got ambrosia and nectar, why haven't you given me any yet?"

Nico's mouth twisted into a smirk. "It's funny watching you squirm."

Percy narrowed his eyes. "I swear to the gods, Nico. You're Satan."

"I'm prettier than Satan," Nico retorted, and he fluffed his shaggy black hair and batted his eyelashes.

"I don't know, Mark Pellegrino is pretty damn attractive," Percy mused, watching Nico through half-lidded eyes.

"That's because you're into blonds," Nico muttered, drawing his knees tighter to his chest. Percy wasn't big on reading body language, but he was pretty sure that meant that Nico was getting uncomfortable with the conversation.

"I like black hair, too," Percy objected.

Nico rolled his eyes. "You've only ever expressed interest in blonds. You had the biggest crush on Luke, you dated Annabeth for two years, you had that creepy one night stand with Apollo, and then there was whatever the hell you called your relationship with Jason, before he and Leo started going out. Face it, Jackson. You have a type, and it's blond hair."

Percy considered. "I think Jason and I would have been termed, most accurately, 'fuck buddies.' But that's besides the point. Blonds aren't my 'type.' "

Nico snorted. "Sure. The only four people you've ever expressed interest in have been blonds, and they're not your type. Okay."

Percy forced himself into a sitting position, mustering up the best stern face he could manage while sick. "Note how none of those relationships/fucks/crushes actually worked out. Did you ever think that the whole blond thing might have been the common denominator in that, too?"

Nico blushed, shrugged, and turned the volume of the TV back up, signaling that he was done with the conversation. Percy sighed, hoisting himself to his feet and stumbling into the kitchen to get more medicine and soup.

When he returned to the living room, Nico was standing, pulling on his aviator jacket and swinging his backpack over his shoulders. A pouch of ambrosia and a bottle of nectar were perched on the coffee table beside the couch.

"You're leaving?" Percy asked, and he wished it didn't disappoint him as much as it did.

Nico nodded, pointing at the ambrosia and nectar. "You don't need me taking up space in your living room if you're not even sick."

Percy walked past Nico and twisted the top off of the water bottle, downing half of it before he started feeling the flu leave his aching body. Then he turned to face the younger demigod, folding his arms over his chest.

"What if I don't want you to leave?" he demanded, and yeah, he sounded a little bit like a kid, but he was recovering from the flu, damn it.

Nico blushed. "Everyone else does. Why wouldn't you?"

Percy's heart melted. "I told you," he said softly. "I like black hair, too."

Nico wrinkled his brow, looking confused, and then his eyes widened, and his blush deepened, and he looked more like a little kid than ever in that enormous Christmas sweater. Percy placed the water bottle on the coffee table and stepped into Nico's space, slowly pushing the backpack strap off of Nico's shoulder. It hit the floor with a thump, and Percy worked his fingers underneath the shoulders of Nico's aviator jacket until that was shrugged off, too.

Percy's fingers dipped into the hem of the collar of Nico's shirt, and gods, Percy hoped he was reading the signs right. Nico's breath hitched in his throat, and their eyes met in the darkness.

"I really like you, Nico," Percy said quietly. He brushed his fingertips along Nico's collarbone, and Nico's eyes slipped shut, a whimper escaping his lips.

Percy stepped a little closer to Nico, lowering his head until his breath was cascading over Nico's mouth as he spoke.

"I don't mind if you don't like me like that," Percy continued. "I just think you should know how I feel." Percy pressed his lips softly to Nico's cheek, then pulled away. "I've always liked you, ever since you got over the whole trying to kill me thing. It just took me a while to realize it."

Nico puffed out a sharp, broken laugh. "Gods damn you, Jackson," he said, and before Percy could ask what Nico meant by that, Nico's lips were on his, Nico's tongue in his mouth, Nico's teeth sliding against his teeth.

"I was so close," Nico growled against Percy's mouth. "I was _so _close to getting over you."

They fell back together on the couch, a clash of hands and teeth and tongue and _damn, Nico smells like gingerbread._

When they finally pulled apart, two hours and two pairs of swollen red lips later, the clock on the wall informed them that it was 12:09 am.

Percy placed another lazy kiss on Nico's mouth. "Merry Christmas."

Nico hmmed softly. "Percy? I'm Jewish."

It took Percy a minute to apologize for the slur and instead wish Nico a "Happy Hanukah," and five to realize that Nico was joking and kiss the laughter back out of Nico's mouth.


End file.
